UP IN FLAMES

He stepped away and opened his mouth, but then seemed to rethink what he was about to say. He finally checked out her car, frowning when he saw her open door. As he moved forward, she gulped in air and ignored the smidgen of disappointment.

“What in the hell?” he said, facing her car fully. Gripping the door, he bent at the waist. “Looks like you lost a windshield.”

She rolled her eyes. “No shit.”

He cast a look over his shoulders that would’ve sent men running in the opposite direction. Vanessa made a face. “The sarcasm isn’t necessary,” he said before turning back to her car. “Man, they did a number on this baby. Looks like someone was trying to get himself a free ride.”

She snorted. “You must be the muscle and not the brains. I guess Paul is the brains in the team then.”

Again, he shot her another dark look, which she ignored.

“Ten minutes ago I told you that I received a threatening note. Do you really think those two things aren’t connected? Wait. Don’t bother answering, because you could give two shits about that. You think I killed my husband and you probably think I hired someone to shoot at my house and then wreck my car. You suck at your job.”

He stared at her, his eyes nearly black in the darkness. “Mrs Spencer” His voice was a low warning.

“Because the only thing you were concerned with back in that-that club, was getting laid.”

He made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a growl. “That wasn’t the only thing I was concerned about.”

“Whatever.” She coughed out what probably sounded like a half-crazed laugh. Kneeling down, she swooped up her keys and started picking up the note that had slipped out of the file. “Why are you out here anyway? Did you want to check out my ass this time around?”

He sighed. “Actually, I was following you.”

Her brows rose as she stood. Then she saw that he was holding the brick in his large hands. She forced her gaze to his face. “Why were you following me?”

“To check out your ass.”

Vanessa entertained a brief fantasy of kicking him between the legs. “Okay. You know what, I obviously have a few phone calls to make, and I’m probably going to need that brick, since it’s evidence and- Hey! What are you doing?”

“You seem to forget that there is no need for any call because I am ‘the cops’, and even if I wasn’t and you did call them, all they’re going to do is file a vandalism report. Nothing more. And that’s not going to do very much for you.”

Ignoring her as she reached for the brick again, he pulled off the rubber band, snapping the elastic, and a piece flung somewhere into the great beyond. Tossing the brick aside, he unfolded the piece of paper. Under the flickering street lamp, she could see the stationary, and knots of unease blossomed in her stomach. No way-absolutely no way.

“Bitch,” Alaric read out loud, glancing up. His lips formed a thin, tight line. “Lovely.”

Vanessa took a step back and then slumped against the SUV.

“Shit.” He was suddenly beside her, his hand on her shoulder. “Vanessa?”

She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the piece of paper he held in his other hand. There had been a tiny part of her that had hoped it was a random coincidence, but now she knew it wasn’t. She hadn’t noticed when it had been wrapped around the brick, but in the faint light and unfolded, she recognized the one-sided design-the black and white lines that crawled up the sides of the ivory sheet and the tiny flowers in each corner.

Fingers appeared under her chin, guiding her head up with surprising gentleness. “Are you okay?”

Not really. Her heart was beating way too fast again. Dizziness swept through her as her eyes locked with Alaric’s. A fine sheen of sweat dotted her forehead. There was a good chance she was going to be sick.

“Vanessa?” Real concern colored his tone as he slid his hand to the side of her neck, as if he was about to check her pulse. “Come on, say something. Are you alright?”

“The paper the note is written on-that paper is mine,” she said. “It’s from my home.”Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“I don’t understand?” he asked, his thumb doing its magic again, but this time on her neck.

“My-my apartment. Here in the city.”

————-

Vanessa hadn’t spoken a word since he’d gotten her to get into his car. Considering how mouthy and absolutely frustrating she usually was, silence from her had to be a bad thing.

He glanced at her as he came to a stoplight, the red from the light glaring across her profile. She was staring out the window, worrying her bottom lip. Her arms were folded, keeping the file tight against her chest like a shield.

She hadn’t even protested when he called Paul to get a tow truck out there.

God, he felt like a giant ass for outright dismissing her when she’d come to talk to him at the club. In a normal case, letters and a vandalized car didn’t equal deadly intent-but coupled with the shooting, something was definitely going on. What exactly and how far this was going to go, he wasn’t sure yet. The note was folded in his pocket, practically burning a hole in it. He wanted to look at it again, see if there was anything else except the one word.

There was a part of Alaric, he recognized, that just wanted this all to be a bunch of nothing. The thought of someone seriously wanting to hurt the woman sitting quietly next to him twisted his gut in ways he didn’t want to consider. He shook the thought away and pulled his car into the parking garage attached to the high-rise apartments. His immediate observation of the building noted several security hazards. It was a good district, not known for a lot of serious crime, but there was no doorman that he saw, which meant anyone could come and go as they pleased.